Crimson
by Dragon Pulse
Summary: A curse is a heavy weight to place on one man. And where there is too much weight, the support brace will always snap.


The realization had hit him. The sensation that came over his body, it was one that he would completely unable to control. He wanted to resist. He wanted to pull back. He wanted to look at Kurogane and say, "If I move, stab me in the back." But the words wouldn't come. He choked on them, trying desperately to force them out as he realized exactly what was going to happen. His blue eye widened as he began to make motions that were entirely beyond his control. Fay could feel Kurogane making a grab for his arm, but his body, much to his distaste, avoided the motion.

And there he saw it before him. The sword that lay on the ground before him would be the one to do the job. To fulfill the curse that had been placed upon him under the conditions that he would live.

Under the conditions he'd live on someone else's terms.

Of course, it made little difference. With his recently acquired vampire status, he could make himself a living weapon at any time – had the man anticipated this on the other side of the dimensional tear as well?

It was all too convenient, he thought to himself as his hand swiftly grabbed the sword that lay before him. The feather – it had boosted her power. And now the wizard himself was powerless to stop himself. His body lunged upwards in a motion that he thought would be impossible, even for him. His eye met with the princess', but there was no fear in her eyes, as if she knew this was to happen. The moment had felt like an eternity, however it was only seconds before the sword had been plunged to her torso. Fay's stomach twisted into knots, instantly feeling sick. Metal piercing through flesh was the most disconcerting feeling he'd experienced; More so as the blade sliced through vital organs, then finally, through the spinal cord.

He was absolutely positive he would vomit right then. The sensation of the thick, red liquid hitting his skin was maddening. He'd just hurt one of the people most important to him.

No, not hurt.

Killed.

Fay had killed someone. And not just anyone. Sakura-hime. The Princess of Clow Country. His traveling companion.

The person he was fated to—

Somewhere in-between the nauseating sights, sounds and scents of Sakura-hime's end, Fay found himself back on the ground and already fallen to his knees. The sword remained in his hands.

_Drip, drip, drip._

The droplets of crimson blood could be heard as they hit the pavement. Everyone around them had fallen silent due to their complete shock.

For Fay, that was perhaps the most maddening part of all.

Nobody was reacting. They weren't immediately trying to lynch him. They weren't threatening his life. They weren't trying to recover her body, or even try to revive her. Syaoran and Kurogane stood, frozen in that exact point in time as Fay tried to make sense of what had happened.

But he couldn't do it. He couldn't figure out where there was justification. Where it had been fair for Sakura-hime to die. Where it had been fair for him to even live after committing such a heinous act.

He couldn't even think straight anymore. How could he think? How could he live? How could any of this be possible?

Instead, he screamed. The normal tone of his voice had disappeared. The soft-spoken, friendly man had been replace by the voice of a man who had been completely broken. Even his yell wavered, laden with disbelief, and more so, fear. He didn't know what to do. So he continued to yell, letting his hands clench the sword. In doing so, he could feel wounds opening. Fay could feel his vampire's blood begin to spill out, mixing with the blood of the deceased princess.

He let one hand stay where it was, whilst the other began to slide towards the hilt, further slicing the skin on his hand in the process. When it finally reached the hilt, he clenched as hard as he possibly could. He wanted to feel his blood pour out of his body. He wanted to lose enough blood so the world around him would begin to spin. It was his time to give up.

Sanity was quickly seeping out of mind, so when he heard the familiar voice, he panicked.

"Fay-san!"

It was Syaoran. Not the Syaoran who they'd left with. Not the empty vessel parading as a boy with a soul. The true Syaoran. Fay couldn't read the tone of his voice. It was fear, determination, worry, and anger all rolled into one incomprehensible sound.

Would Syaoran-kun kill him for this? Would Kurogane?

There hadn't been any time to think about these things. Every thought came and passed so quickly. It was a blur, but so clear. Could time stop and speed up at once? Had this been possible, Fay believed he was experiencing it at that exact moment.

"Wh—" Before Syaoran could even utter an entire word, he found himself choking. Gagging on his own blood.

Panic.

Fear.

Fay didn't know what to do. He couldn't predict what Syaoran would do, so with blade in hand, he turned, sending the sharp point directly into the boy's torso. It felt no better this time. There was more blood. More sounds of him destroying the people he cared for. And again, the feeling of steel through flesh was sickening. The magician was so weak in his knees that he still couldn't bring himself to stand.

His eye was wide, and brimming with tears. They threatened to spill, but hadn't quite done so yet. He licked his lips in an attempt to fight the feeling, but there was only one thing he could taste, and that was Syaoran's blood. He'd grown accustomed to the general flavor, but knowing it was Syaoran's… and knowing that he was the reason the boy was choking on his last breath, drowning in blood… well, that made it all the more sickening.

It couldn't be helped. His body was drenched in sweat, and he shivered from the chill down his spine as his hand fell limp, dropping the thrice-bloodied sword to the ground with a loud clang, causing even the horrified ninja to jump at the sound.

Fay could barely keep himself propped up as he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the bloodied pavement next to the lifeless Syaoran. A large hand grabbing his arm and pulling him upward interrupted the process.

"What the hell has gotten into you? The Princess, the kid… you—" Kurogane snarled, shaking Fay feverishly. He demanded a response. He demanded to know why someone who clearly cared so much for the people he traveled with, despite his desire to hide this, would suddenly turn. He looked into the magician's eye, hoping that he would get some sort of response.

He saw fear.

Until that point, Fay had not shed any tears. They stung his eyes and his nasal passages, but that was all. But when his blue eye met with Kurogane's crimson ones, the floodgates had opened. Tears cascaded down his cheeks, and he let out fearful sobs.

The realization had been made.

And he couldn't turn back now.

"Dammit mage, stop crying and answer me!"

Patience never was Kurogane's strong suit.

"Kuro-chi…" Fay trailed off. Kurogane immediately arched an eyebrow at his words. They were barely comprehensible amidst the sobs, but he paused, waiting to see what Fay was going to say. "Kurogane. You all deserved better. All I do is ruin the things I touch. I am a kiss of death."

Kurogane found himself at a loss for words. Where was he going with this?

"Sakura-chan, Syaoran-kun, and Kurogane… I love you all… and… I'm sorry."

Kurogane wanted to respond, but how was he do to so? Before he could even think of speaking, a set of lancers had pierced through him. His heart. His lungs. He barely had time to get another breath before his heart had stopped completely.

Horror.

Fay pulled the lancers out, letting Kurogane's body fall limp on the concrete. Blood seeped from the puncture wounds in his upper body.

The magician's curse; only to kill one.

But he had killed them all. All that he held dear. He killed his parents. He killed his brother. Ashura-ou was on his way. Sakura, Syaoran, and Kurogane.

All of his most important people had fallen at his hands. There was only one thing to do.

He held his bloodied hand up, pointing two fingers upwards. A stream of Cyrillic letters circled him, expanding and contracting. First slow. But the pace quickened until it was practically impossible to see there was someone standing in the center of it. And then finally, it exploded.

There was nothing but crimson colored ashes remaining when the smoke had cleared.


End file.
